Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(37)

The churning inside my entire body was the reason why people shouldn’t date in their first year of sobriety. Alcohol would soothe the ambiguity and uncertainty. Alcohol was something I could count on. I knew exactly what it did to me—it blocked everything out and made the bad things better. Three years sober, I no longer had the constant urge to drink, but at the same time, I was thankful that I’d years of preparation for this moment. I had other ways to cope. Any earlier in my sobriety and I wouldn’t have been so sure.

I checked in, and headed toward the elevators, except, I passed them and kept walking, toward the bar. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t here.

“Can I help you, miss?” The bartender smiled at me.

Half-heartedly, I smiled back. “No.” Should I ask him if he’d seen a man on his own who seemed to be waiting for someone? No. I didn’t want to come across as a total crazy person. “Actually, can I get some cake sent up to my room?” I wanted chocolate mousse, but couldn’t bring myself to order it. “Perhaps a strawberry shortcake? Room 1204.”

“Certainly.”

“And maybe a selection of macaroons?”

He nodded and I turned back to the elevators.

As I rode up to the twelfth floor, I checked my phone again. Still nothing. I was pretty sure I’d been dumped.

As I entered my room, an image of being pushed against the glass the last time I’d been here flashed into my head. Jesus, that man knew how to f*ck, or he knew how to f*ck me. I’d never experienced anything like it.

My stomach flip-flopped at the knock on the door. Was he here? I raced to the door, and flung it open, a huge grin on my face.

It was the cake. I’d never been so disappointed at being given sugar.

I let the waiter in, and he set the tray on the table and I signed his notepad and tipped him. I was being crazy. Why wasn’t Dylan here?

I grabbed my phone.

Beth: I’m back at the hotel. I have cake. I’m hoping you’ll join me?

I’d not even set my cell down when it buzzed.

Dylan: I’m sure you have others who can help you with the cake. You should have told me you were with someone. I don’t like cheaters.

What the hell did that mean? Anxiety gripped at my throat. Who did he think I was?

Beth: Who have I cheated on?

I collapsed into a chair to read his reply.

Dylan: The poor chump on the plane. Get him to eat your cake.

I rolled my eyes as things started to click. He thought I was with my brother. He’d asked me to trust him on more than one occasion, but wasn’t affording me the same courtesy.

Beth: First, ewwww. Second, if you’d stuck around I could have introduced you to my BROTHER, who is not a chump, btw. You, on the other hand, are an ass.

Silence.

Perhaps he didn’t believe me. Perhaps he thought I was making it up.

Could he have really thought I was with Jake? Was that really the reason he was pissed off, or had it been a convenient get-out-of-jail-free clause?

Thank God I’d ordered cake. I reached behind me and grabbed a couple of pink rosewater macaroons from the tray. Self-medicating with sugar was almost as good as drinking.

I sighed and closed my eyes. I’d really been looking forward to seeing Dylan, but now everything had become more complicated than it was supposed to be. Perhaps I should get out now while I was only a little disappointed.

My phone buzzed. I took a deep breath as I opened the message.

Dylan: You’re right. I’m an ass. I’d really like to see you. Can I come over?

It would be better if I said no, easier. If I flew home without seeing him, life would be simpler. The hard shell surrounding my heart survived my disappointment today, but I wasn’t sure if it would again. My phone buzzed again.

Dylan: I’m really sorry.

I stared at the screen. I couldn’t and wouldn’t say no to him. I was myself—the new reinvented Beth Harrison, with Dylan, and he allowed me to be her without it feeling fake or it being an effort. It was as if he was the final piece in rebuilding myself—he’d lodged in my soul and he’d be there forever.

I’d never be able to say no to Dylan, whatever he asked of me.





Dylan

The sky was dark and very few people were on the street as I grabbed a cab in the cold. We were due a snowfall.

When I received Beth’s text explaining the guy she was travelling with was her brother, I’d tried to dismiss it as bullshit. In a lot of ways it would have been easier if she were the cheater I’d suspected. Seeing her with him had made me realize she had the power to wound me, and I didn’t like anything that had power over me.

It was too late.

I’d had a dull ache drifting through my muscles and joints since I’d first seen her in the airport lounge, and I wanted to be rid of it. I knew touching, kissing, sucking, and f*cking Beth would chase it away.

But what she was saying wasn’t bullshit. It made perfect sense and fit with everything she’d told me about him and about her and her life. As she’d pointed out, I’d been an ass.

I strode through the lobby and headed toward the bar. I didn’t see her, so I grabbed a stool and ordered a soda water and some chocolate mousse.

I waited twenty minutes before the elevator doors pinged open and Beth stepped out.

The ache inside me intensified as I took in her mouth, hips and beautiful eyes. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning at her, but her lips were tight.